


this bridge is made of rope (baby, say you'll go)

by a_shiny_mess (magpie4shinies)



Series: Jangobi Week 2021 [4]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Jangobi Week (Star Wars), Kamino is an excellent honeymoon spot apparently, M/M, mild name kink maybe, technically finished but definitely an idea that could be expanded upon, we're in it now boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29257503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie4shinies/pseuds/a_shiny_mess
Summary: Taun We tilted her head as Obi-Wan glanced their way. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait to make your call until the Great Storm passes if your intention was to report to the Jedi High Council, Master Jedi.” Taun We turned her large, limpid eyes to Jango briefly. “It was good that you returned when you did. The upper atmosphere is already unsafe to navigate.”Jango’s nostrils flared. “Oh, that is good.”
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Jangobi Week 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139039
Comments: 10
Kudos: 262
Collections: Jangobi Week





	this bridge is made of rope (baby, say you'll go)

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically for two prompts because I was an exhausted mess yesterday. 
> 
> Day five: competence kink  
> Day six: fix it AU

Taun We tilted her head as Obi-Wan glanced their way. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait to make your call until the Great Storm passes if your intention was to report to the Jedi High Council, Master Jedi.” Taun We turned her large, limpid eyes to Jango briefly. “It was good that you returned when you did. The upper atmosphere is already unsafe to navigate.”

Jango’s nostrils flared. “Oh, that is good.” 

Boba shifted and Jango twitched his hand in a signal of some sort, too fast for Obi-Wan to parse. Boba stilled and Jango crossed his arms over his chest.

Obi-Wan found his eyes drawn to what he could see of the man’s bare forearms bared up to where he’d rolled his sleeves; well muscled, with faint scarring all over, the only marks Obi-Wan could be sure of were around his wrist -- binder marks, healed without the aid of bacta -- and ridged lines he recognized as glancing blaster fire. They were interesting scars for a man typically found in beskar'gam. He noted that and tucked the curiosity away to focus on the more relevant information he’d received. 

Taun We’s words (the Great Storm) along with the new resignation that was now faintly flavoring Jango’s otherwise blank Force presence rolled over in his mind, and he thought back to what he knew of other water planets and then asked, already concerned he had a fairly good idea how this was going to play out. “And...how long is...the Great Storm expected to take?”

Taun We’s large eyes shifted slightly to a point behind Obi-Wan as she thought. 

It was Jango who answered first. “Planet wide squalls can take anywhere from a week to a month to clear.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head in thanks. Fett’s stifled Force presence was odd, not especially aggressive and the Force around them was...expectant without any particular warnings. But Obi-Wan would have to be a fool not to consider the man’s inherent capability and alliance against a Republic Senator in his threat evaluation. Maintaining awareness of Fett, he turned back to Taun We with his head cocked in inquiry. 

Taun We nodded gracefully. “Jango is correct. While we can typically predict storms of this nature reliably, this particular storm lashed itself into being with almost no warning. The technicians predict that we shall be isolated for two weeks.”

Obi-Wan’s shoulders tightened, and intriguingly, he felt Fett’s presence surge briefly with frustration before it was tucked behind shields which were no less than impressive, especially for a non-Force sensitive psy-null. “I see. Will my ship be safe where it is, or should I relocate it?”

“We have activated the sunken shield for the installation. All within shall be safely contained until the storm passes.”

Obi-Wan bowed. “You have my thanks.” 

Taun We dipped her own head. “We are the grateful ones, Master Jedi. Your keen interest in the specifics of the program show a personal investment beyond even that of Master Sifo-Dyas, before his untimely passing.”

Obi-Wan felt the words as keenly as a well aimed blade, though he doubted the intention was malicious. The Kaminoan people felt removed in the Force, but not without emotion: no, instead, they seemed to view the clones with the same distant proprietary interest as any artist or craftsman. Lama Su’s words echoed in his memory:

_We take great pride in our combat education and training programs._

and 

_They are totally obedient, taking any order without question._

and

_We modified their genetic structure to make them less independent than the original host._

Apparently they’d taken Obi-Wan’s blank questions for earnest interest rather than the distraction from any tells of his horror. He supposed the concept of genetic slavery was, itself, quite novel. Not even the Hutts, widely acknowledged as the worst slavers in the ‘verse, had gone to such lengths to suppress their sentient chattel.

 _Master, was this your intent? What could you have seen?_ He wondered, swallowing his despair until he could meditate and release it into the Force later. There would be no other satisfaction: Sifo-Dyas was long dead and returned to the Force. 

The only thing Obi-Wan could do was move forward as best as he could. “I am most definitely interested, rest assured.” 

Taun We folded her hands together calmly. “Indeed. Perhaps you might wish to follow me? You may return, of course, but I wish to show you to the guest suite Lama Su has requested be prepared for you during your stay.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes darted back to Jango consideringly. The man’s face was as politely blank as it had been for their entire conversation, save for the faint smirk that had ghosted along his mouth when he’d assured Obi-Wan that the clones would do their job. Would he try to escape the planet even during this storm?

Taun We seemed to misunderstand his hesitation. “I assure you that you and Jango will have many opportunities to speak to the training and development of the clones many times over the next few weeks. Perhaps you might find the time to sit in some of our advanced classes?”

The Force seemed to sharpen and Obi-Wan found himself nodding almost instinctively. “Both would be appreciated.” He considered Jango thoughtfully, and then bowed. “Your time is valuable, of course, but I would appreciate any help you could provide in understanding the men.” Jango’s bland politeness didn’t crack before Obi-Wan turned back to Taun We. “And such a goal would benefit from direct interaction as well, of course.”

“Of course,” Taun We murmured. “It is good that your visit coincided with Jango’s time on planet. When he is here, he frequently provides hands on tutoring for the advanced courses. It would be most efficient to sit in on those lessons.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Jango once more, tucking his hands into the sleeves of the opposite arms and considered the best tone to gently needle and engage without pushing Fett over the edge. “That does sound...most efficient. If it wouldn’t trouble you?” 

Jango smiled faintly, Force presence still impressively bland as he stepped closer and scrutinized Obi-Wan, brown eyes intense and unreadable. “Oh, no trouble. The boys will probably get a kick out of having a Jedi to impress.”

Suppressing the distaste of the thought of an army bred not just for the Republic, but for the Order, Obi-Wan bowed once more. “In that case, thank you for your time, Jango.”

“Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi,” Jango murmured.

Obi-Wan felt the intensity of that gaze follow him out of the apartment. 

~

During the first training he attended, Obi-Wan started with the intention of impartial observation, but during the first break he was more properly introduced to the...the boys? The men? And once he had felt the unique flavor of curiosity and consideration, challenge and reluctant admiration that was roiling around in them broadcast into the Force -- apparently Jango hadn’t seen fit to teach his clones that particular skill, which Obi-Wan found to be a deeply curious gap -- he found he was unable to remain removed.

He participated in the lessons wherever he could be useful: answering questions, posing scenarios, participating in hand to hand and weapons training, and even -- once -- absolutely demolishing the top time on the obstacle course they’d set up. Without using the Force. 

He even made his way to the younger cadets, reviewing the basic lessons and answering questions there as well. They were all so different in the Force that Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine confusing them. 

The whole time, Obi-Wan found himself haunted by Jango’s attention. 

Brown eyes followed him everywhere: unreadable as he considered his response to questions he wasn’t expecting; unflinching as he made a respectable show with a blaster; greedy as he led an impromptu session in the basics to Form I during one of the weapons trainings (Shii-Cho was the basic form, and flexible for use with a beskad instead of a lightsaber). His Force presence was relaxing, too, though that was expected. The sort of mental discipline for maintaining shielding like Jango’s was difficult to keep up long term for those without access to the Force and time to meditate. 

Obi-Wan caught flickers of heat at first, too fast for him to parse what they meant beyond not being a threat. It didn’t help that he was distracted himself by the form-fitting kute the man wore to training and the muscles it revealed or the small scar slicing a line through his left eyebrow.

In the third hand to hand class he attended, Obi-Wan ended up sparring with the older Mandalorian instructor. Out of their three matches, he lost twice and won the third. It was a different matter entirely in weapons training, tonfa against beskad. With every bout, win or lose, the fierce attention burned a little brighter.

They were eight days into the city-wide lockdown. The bursts of heat (in Jango and Obi-Wan himself) came quicker as the days passed until it boiled over and a small group sparring match ended in Obi-Wan’s quarters, Jango’s head buried in Obi-Wan’s shoulder as Obi-Wan scrambled with the tie of his pants until he could get his hand into Jango’s pants and around the blood-hot heft of his cock. 

The crush of their thighs made stroking properly difficult but Obi-Wan could squeeze gently and tug, rub his pinky against the underside of Jango’s prick right up against the head, drawing a curse from Jango and the sensation of teeth in his throat.

“How are you --”

Obi-Wan spread his legs wider, released his grip on Jango’s hair and got his arm between them to force a little space. The minute Jango processed the pressure, he eased back, color high in his cheeks, pupils wide, and sweat building up at his temples. It was distractingly attractive, but Obi-Wan had the room he needed to properly stroke him properly once, watching the sensation travel over his face. 

“Feels good, hm?” he asked gently, failing to hide the satisfaction of it, rubbing gently with his thumb as Jango continued to thicken in his grasp.

“Different calluses.” Jango’s teeth flashed and he tugged Obi-Wan’s hand gently from where he’d wriggled it into his bottoms, eyes flicking from Obi-Wan’s face to his hand to his mouth, and then back to his eyes. 

A fresh wave of lust spiralled heat from Obi-Wan’s gut out, igniting his blood as Jango pressed his thumb into the meat of Obi-Wan’s palm and rubbed the edge of thickened skin from the hilt of his lightsaber and pulled until he could meet himself halfway and pulled two of Obi-Wan’s fingers into his mouth, curling his tongue around the roughened tips, warm and soft and wet. 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan’s head hit the wall behind him. “Oh, you’re -- that’s lovely, Jango.”

Jange pulled back a little and dragged his toothy grin down Obi-Wan’s fingers to his palm. “So polite, Jedi.”

Obi-Wan adjusted the angle of his hand in Jango’s loose grip and cupped his face, appreciating the rasp of stubble under his fingers and thumbing the edge of his damp mouth. “You should probably call me Obi-Wan.”

The moment stretched between them, Jango’s lips soft against Obi-Wan’s thumb, still gripping Obi-Wan’s wrist with his own blaster-roughened hands. The Force seemed tight with anticipation and hope ( _was he living through a shatterpoint right now?_ ) and then Jango sighed, pressing his lips to Obi-Wan’s skin. “I suppose I should.”


End file.
